The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding
Riding-riding-
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.

– Alfred Noyes 1880-1958

This poem takes me back to my schooldays! Alas! I loved poetry then just as I do now. If you know the poem and the story narrated you’d know the landlord’s daughter Bess, and on a sparkling moonlit night such as tonight, thats what comes to mind — The Highwayman!

One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.

A little respite from my India trip 2010 story, will continue soon.
Thank you A Sue for reminding me about the full moon or I’d have missed the opportunity.